Sunday Morning
by not-so-dumb-blonde
Summary: Post-LWTTWF. Saturday, Rory finished her finals, crossed paths with her Grandmother, went on the date from hell, and shared an appetizer platter with her ex-boyfriend. Then, a bomb was dropped and an offer was made, and on a whim, she said yes. On Sunday
1. You Twist To Fit The Mold That I Am In

A/N: This is completely out of the blue. It's something I wrote completely on a whim, mind you it was quite early when I did so and I had alcohol in my system. Anyway, Maroon 5's (God, I melt for Adam Lavine) _Sunday Morning_ from their Grammy® award-winning album _Songs About Jane_ is currently my favorite song, and I was listening to it as I wrote. Obviously, it took on a personality of its own and became a song fic, which I don't normally do. Blame it on the Smirnoff. I know the idea has already been done, but I happen to think mine has a creative twist, despite its fluffiness, which I apologize for in advance. It is, in fact, post-_Last Week Tights, This Week Fights_. Yeah, yeah, sue me. As I was saying, on Saturday, Rory finished her finals, went on the date from hell, and ended up sharing an appetizer platter with her ex-boyfriend. Then, a bomb was dropped and an offer was made, and on a leap of faith, she had said yes. This is my version of her Sunday morning. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls nor do I own Maroon 5, no matter how much I pray to God that he send me Milo Ventimiglia and Adam Lavine. Therefore, no copyright infringement necessary.

Without further ado . . .

_Sunday morning rain is falling_

_Steal some covers share some skin_

_Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable _

_You twist to fit the mold that I am in _

The rain had been falling all night, pelting every inch of the empty campus like a knife to warm flesh. The fresh scent of the summer shower drifted in the open window, leaving an airy mist on everything that crossed its path, including their tangled limbs. A draft came through causing her to twist in her sleep, pulling the sheet up to her chin and sliding a hand up his bare chest. Both of their eyelids fluttered simultaneously; Honey brown then met ocean blue.

His eyes, dark and overcome with desire, bore into hers. He had a way of looking at her that was unlike any other. Others looked at her as if she were a china doll, porcelain and fragile. He, on the other hand, looked at her — flaws and all — like she could be broken, and he was just the one to do it. And she looked back at him with love and thankfulness, baring the entire contents of his soul. Then, without a single thought, he captured her lips with his own. She was flustered at first by the spontaneity of the kiss, but soon kissed back. When he pulled away, a smirk played on her lips, swollen from their passionate morning greeting.

"Buy a toothbrush, Mariano."

He matched her smirk. "Hi, Mr. Pot. I'm Mr. Kettle, and I'm black too!"

"How long have you been up?" Her voice was groggy, masked with sleep and sex.

He just shrugged.

"I know you. You're not this articulate in the morning."

"Well, apparently, I don't know you." He challenged, conjuring memories of the night before.

Her expression grew serious, and despite herself, she blushed, embarrassed and lost for words. It was amazing how quickly he could surface her flaws, making her eat her words. This was one of the reasons why she loved him; He knew she had imperfections.

"I'm sorry. I was angry. Shocked. All of the above."

"Which brings me to my next question,"

She looked up at him, her doe eyes sparkling, as if to say continue.

"What was Dean doing here?"

She sighed, realizing that this was not a taboo subject, and he was going to ask. Maybe not this soon, but he was definitely going to ask.

"My Grandmother set me up with this frat-boy moron. He helped me tape up my boxes, so I agreed to go out with him. He got wasted. It was the date from hell. I didn't know who else to call."

True to form, all he said was, "Huh."

"Well, John Belushi helped me tape up my boxes, and you get to help me move them." She smiled, dying for a subject change.

"Already done." He stated simply.

Her face changed from satisfied to perplexed. "What?"

"You asked me how long I had been up? Quite a while. You're stuff is already in the car."

Her eyes dilated. "You did all that, came back to bed, and I didn't even know it?"

With his index finger, he gently moved up on her jaw, closing her widely-opened mouth. "You sleep like a rock." He replied matter-of-factly.

"Color me shocked."

"I figured we needed to get out of here as quickly as possible."

There was a pregnant pause. The aftertaste of her words was finally settling in, and it was bittersweet. Was she really going to drop everything? Yale? Stars Hollow? Familiarity? This left a bitter taste in her mouth yet the sweet side was like chocolate melting on the tip of her tongue. It was delicious ambiguity.

_But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do_

_And I would gladly hit the road get up and go if I knew_

_That someday it would lead me back to do _

_That someday it would lead me back to you_

"Columbia." She said suddenly.

He raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Juan Valdez, what are you talking about?"

She chuckled. "The University not the coffee. It's in New York."

"I know."

"Well?"

"Well what?" He was sure what she was trying to pry out of him.

"What do you think about me applying to Columbia or even NYU?"

He let out a heavy sigh. He knew what she was doing and was grateful, but now, after sleeping on it, he realized how ludicrous his offer for Rory really was. Nevertheless, she was trying, and he smiled.

"That's wonderful, Rory. It really is, but is this what you want? Don't worry about what I want or what Lorelai wants or what your grandparents want. Worry about what you want! If this is really what you want, then I'm thrilled."

She rolled over onto his chest, putting the weight of her body on his, and looked into his eyes. "I wanna be with you. Columbia is an Ivy too. It has one of the best Journalism departments in the country, and if I'm going to be the next Christiane Amanpour, I'm going to have to have fabulous credentials. And New York is a great place to be! There's more opportunities, a great deal more than here in Connecticut, especially New Haven. So, this isn't holding me back. It's a step forward, and it's even better that you get to take this step with me."

She then leaned in and kissed him. She took in everything in that moment. What she was gaining. What she was leaving behind. Her hopes and aspirations for the future. No, her mother and grandparent's were not going to approve. She could almost hear the judgmental yammers of Emily Gilmore in her ear. Rory, how could you be so irresponsible? I can't believe you would drop Yale at the drop of a hat, something you've worked so hard for, just for a boy! And not just any boy, but that rude hooligan with the black eye who showed up half an hour late just to insult me and the raisins in the salad! Then, she would go on to her mother, insulting Lorelai because she had let her own daughter do such a thing. Rory wanted to prove them wrong. That she could go to Columbia, be successful, and be with Jess at the same time. She also wanted to prove once and for all that Jess was not always the bad guy and that he loved her, and she him.

_That maybe all I need _

_In darkness she is all I see _

_Come and rest your bones with me _

_Driving slow on Sunday morning_

_And I never want to leave_

"Wow." He replied breathlessly, his eyes, once more, glazed over with an emotion she couldn't quite detect.

"Yeah. So, does that answer your question?"

"My offer still stands though." He vaguely answered.

She furrowed her brow. "I thought I just cleared that up for you. We're going to New . . ."

"No, not that offer."

"Then, what?'

"That I can run up to your car while you're driving, screaming in a foreign language."

She burst into laughter, skimming his chest with her nose. "I can't believe you still remember that!" She exclaimed, still in a giggling fit.

"But I do. I remember everything." His voice gruff, and in that one phrase, she melted into him and his lips.

She smiled, pulling away, and ran a carefree hand through his hair. "If you keep saying things like that, we're gonna be in bed all day."

He gave a satisfied smirk. "I could live with that."

She then playfully smacked his shoulder. "I'm serious. If we're ever gonna start the next day of the rest of our lives, we have to rise and shine, despite the rain."

He smiled at this. A natural smile, which was rare for him. Yet, he was happy; he had his soulmate back.

_Fingers trace your every outline_

_Paint a picture with my hands_

_Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm _

_Change the weather still together when it ends_

* * *

_That may be all I need _

_In darkness she is all I see_

_Come and rest your bones with me _

_Driving slow on Sunday morning_

_And I never want to leave _

And the rain kept falling and falling, making streaks on the windows as the drops dusted the glass. Earlier, a random radio deejay had mentioned something about thunderstorm warnings, telling the masses to stay clear the roads and watch for lightning. However, the only electricity the old car's inhabitants worried about was their own. The drive had been extremely pleasant. They talked about everything and nothing — good books they had read, movies worth renting, her school and recent reality television obsession, his freelance work and time spent in California. She could barely take it in when he had told her about Jimmy and Venice Beach. It was quite ironic considering she had only given him a copy of _The Holy Barbarians_ days earlier. They talked of the night of Kyle's party and their happenstance meeting on the bus and what he had said to her after Liz and TJ's wedding rehearsal, only the latter did he not regret. Yes, he talked of the past and she the future.

_But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do _

_Sunday morning rain is falling and I'm calling out to you _

_Singing someday it will bring me back to you _

_Find a way to bring myself back home to you_

"So," He replied, taking his eyes off the interstate and resting his gaze toward her, "What would we be doing in this tiny little apartment in Soho with books scattered everywhere and an empty fridge except for cold Thai food and beer?"

A warm glow radiated from her face as she continued. "Well, naturally, I'll be at Columbia, but I'll have an internship on the side. You'll have your freelance work and a job on the side. I'll come home from either a stimulating class discussing the later works of Tolstoy or a late afternoon writing brilliant pieces for an independent newspaper, before moving up to _Time_ or_ Newsweek_, of course."

"Of course." He reiterated her statement smiling then placed a light hand on her knee, reassuring her that she could continue her musings.

"As I was saying, I'll come home to dinner that has already been cooked, by you,"

He raised an eyebrow, carefully choosing not to make the smart-ass comment he has just spun in his head. Instead, he let her finish. She smiles knowingly, understanding finally that he is slowly learning and wanting to be the epitome of love that she has always wanted, pure and undaunting.

"You'll be crouched on our couch in your sock-feet intently reading Kerouac, Bukowski, or Hunter Thomas, naturally, and I'll kick off my shoes at the door, completely forgetting the piece I'm to write at the mere sight of you,"

At this, he gives her another one of his rare, genuine smiles. No, this was a grin. He was actually _grinning_. Love does, in fact, make you do crazy things.

Smiling back, she finishes her monologue, "I'll snuggle up to you on the couch, and you'll read to me until we fall asleep, forgetting work, the food, and the world."

Suddenly, she realizes that this is what she has done already. Looking out the water-streaked window, the infamous outlines of the New York City skyline are in plain view. A startling tingle sped down her entire body, and she is unsure if it's Jess' presence or his promise of their tomorrow. She shudders at the word. Tomorrow, Monday, she would call her mother, her grandparents, informing them of her decision. Tomorrow she would call the Yale Acceptance office, informing them she was transferring. Tomorrow she would venture into the City, Columbia University specifically, requesting information and an application. But that was tomorrow. Today, she was going to relax and enjoy the excitement of him and the rest of their Sunday morning drive.

_And you may not know _

_That maybe all I need _

_In darkness she is all I see _

_Come and rest your bones with me _

_Driving slow on Sunday morning _

_And I never want to leave . . . _

* * *

Well, I hoped you liked it. It was a one-shot if you hadn't figured that out by now. For those of you who are looking for Chapter 8 of _Opposites Still Attract_, it is coming. Scout's Honor. I just wrote this quickly, without a Beta might I add. Anyway, I still would love to hear what you think. That was basically a subtle plea for reviews. God, I'm pathetic. Still, R/R. Peace and love — moi. 

PS: If you don't own _Songs About Jane_, I highly suggest you get up off your ass and go to your nearest local Tower Records. If you don't, you're totally missing out! They didn't beat out Kanye West for Best New Artist for nothing! (Nothing against Kanye fans)


	2. Cause I'm a Little Bit Rusty

A/N: Okay, I lied. This was originally a one-parter, but I was listening to Matchbox 20 the other day, trying to come up with inspiration for my other piece of fiction; it was _Yourself Or Someone Like You_, obviously. I just decided to finish this. Think of the first chapter as a prologue. For this chapter, my musical muse was _Push_. It is #4 on said CD.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the Girls or Matchbox 20. However, Rob, if you're interested in divorcing you're wife, call me! LOL.

Without further ado . . .

_She said I don't know if I've ever been good enough_

_I'm a little bit rusty, and I think my head is caving in_

She had been sitting by the door for hours, staring at it, wanting so badly to pick up the receiver and dial the numbers she knew by heart. The easy part of her to-do list had been completed. After Jess had left for work, she had gone to Columbia. Then, she had called Yale. Ever since, she had been sitting by the phone in his faded Metallica tee shirt, glaring at the piece of machinery, as if it was going to look back. She was fighting an inner battle, her mind daring her hand to pick up. Then, during one of the imaginary repartees, a wanted distraction came — a knock at the door.

She opened the door to a handsome twenty-something who seemed to be in a state of shock. His eyes perusing her body, causing her to blush. "May I help you?"

Her timidness made him smirk. "It's about damn time!" He exclaimed, shaking his head in unbelief.

His thick, Brooklyn brogue she noticed immediately. He had a way about him, a certain arrogant vibe that exuded "Proud New Yorker." She could tell he was born and raised, not unlike Jess.

"Excuse me?" She finally asked.

"God, Jess hasn't gotten any in months! Does he know your name? You weren't drunk, were you?"

She gripped the hem of the shirt, trying to mask her embarrassment. She suddenly felt like she was being bombarded with personal questions from an absolute, complete stranger. "Yes, and I'm pretty sure there was no alcohol was involved."

He smirked once more. "Good to hear. Can I come in? Unless I'm interrupting something."

She blushed at his insinuation. "Sure. Jess is at work."

She ushered him inside before entering into the bedroom to change in order to look presentable.

Then, she heard his voice as she grabbed a pair of jeans from the closet. "At the bookstore or the_ Post_?"

This made her curious. He knew where Jess worked. When she padded back into the tiny living room/kitchen, now wearing her favorite pair of worn, Seven jeans and a grey, Ramones tee, he was sprawled on the couch, sipping a Heineken from their fridge, and surfing through bad daytime television.

"It was a nice shirt. Typical chick, though. Always going for the mainstream. I would have gone for the Tool shirt."

She grinned, her brain flashing pictures from the past. "You mean you don't appreciate _Enter Sandman_?"

He grimaced. "God, you sound just like Jess!" He paused, noticing the confusion on her face. She still didn't know who he was. "I'm Rob, by the way. Rob Coffax. Jess has been my best friend since the fifth grade, when Kyle Edison tried to beat me up 'cause he wanted my _Green Lantern_ lunch box. Jess took up for me."

"And, Boy, did we ever kick his ass!" A voice exclaimed. They both turned to see the smirking figure standing behind the couch.

"He didn't stand a chance." Rob responded.

Rory's eyes brightened. "What are you doing here?" She asked, looking at her watch before retreating to his form and greeting him with a kiss.

Rob raised an eyebrow, glaring at Rory. "You're kissing him; after me! I thought you cared!"

Knowing his friend and his ways, Jess just smirked and played along. "I'm hurt, Rory!"

She backed away, her mouth wide with shock, her arms akimbo.

"Yeah, Man, she was all over . . .What, wait a minute! Rory!"

He bowed his head, his complexion crimson.

"Dude, the Yale chick! The one from that creepy little town in Connecticut?"

When Jess nodded, he almost spit out the beer he had just chugged.

Rory grinned. "You missed me."

He couldn't deny it. He had tried once before, but all it got him was a fight in a parking lot, where he had declared his unfailing love for her. No, denying it didn't work.

_And I don't know if I've ever been really loved _

_By a hand that's touched me, well I feel like something's gotta give, _

_And I'm a little bit angry, well . . ._

"I wouldn't have driven all that way for you to turn me down."

Her smile never faded. "I'm glad you did."

They turned their heads at the sound of a muffled cough. "I'm sorry to break up your little love-fest, but your phone is ringing."

Neither of them had heard the ringing, and before the receiver was found, due to Rory's collection of boxes piled haphazardly around the apartment, the answering machine kicked in.

"Hi! You've reached Jess and Rory! We're not able to come to the phone right now . . ." Her voice rang clear.

Jess' voice popped. " For reasons we'd rather not say . . ."

"Jess!" The person on the other end could hear her blush. "Just leave us a message, and we'll call you back!"

"If you're lucky . . ." He chimed in once more, before Rory's exasperated sigh ended the message.

The previous evening, almost immediately after they had arrived, Rory had wanted to create a new message. She said that it was the beginnings of familiarity, together in the City, and made their current situation seem much more permanent. He reluctantly agreed. When the recording was over, the three of them listened for a message. However, the only thing that was heard was a familiar grunt and the click of the other phone. Rory's eyes widened and her face became wraith-like.

Jess crossed his arms, as if he were annoyed. "You haven't called have you?" He finally asked.

"I tried." She admitted, meekly.

He then knew automatically what she wanted. Her expression readable, her body language telling. She then looked longingly into his dark eyes, begging for his approval. He cursed softly, as if agreeing to her unsaid request. It was simply amazing how their psyches were in sync. Rob just looked on, beguiled

_This ain't over, no not here, not while I still need you around. _

_You don't owe me, we might change it._

_Yeah, we just might feel good . . ._

* * *

_I wanna push you around. _

_Well, I will. I will. _

_I wanna push you down._

_Well, I will, I will. _

_I wanna take you for granted. _

_Well, I will. _

_I wanna take you for granted, I will. _

After Rob and Rory had a proper introduction, and He and Jess were finally reunited, they mumbled their good-byes and left. They both knew what Rory had to tell her family, but Rory knew she couldn't do it over the phone; She had to do it face to face. Jess swore to himself that he would never return to this town, but he also made the promise that he would never again willingly do anything to hurt her ever again. The latter he wanted so badly to keep. Nevertheless, he was driving in his old jalopy, Rory beside him, to that same place he swore on his mother's grave he would never see again, the city limits sign in clear view: _Welcome to Stars Hollow_.

Passing the gazebo, Gypsy's garage, Miss Patty's studio, and, of course, Doose's Market, he parked the car in front of The Diner, a place he once referred to as hell on earth.

The got out of the car, and she grabbed his hand for support as they entered Luke's, the old bell still had a sharp ring. Jess had wondered whether or not the bell was there for Luke to know he was getting a new customer or simply for the town to be nosy. When the sharp ring sounded, the Stars Hollow citizens turned their head to the door. Kirk, Miss Patty, Rune, Andrew, Babbette, Morey, and even Taylor. A look of shock and concern plastered over their faces.

Then, Luke wandered in from the kitchen. Once he caught a glance of the sight before him, he stopped right in his tracks, dropping the plate of food in his hands. No one dared move, even when the glass shattered on the tile flooring.

Kirk finally broke the uncomfortable silence. "Aren't you going to clean that up?"

Luke Danes never moved, but muttered, "I think one of the four horses of the Apocalypse just galloped into my Diner."

"Yep, rivers of blood, toads, asps, and me, that's right!" Jess quipped. Something about this place brought out his wit. Something brought back his sarcastic facade.

Luke rolled his eyes. "I hear Cleopatra holds grudges."

"Yeah, but Dante put her in the innermost ring of hell, so she'd have to go through a few more rings to get to my neck of the woods. I think its somewhere around Plum Street."

"Stars Hollow is no where near a fiery pit." Luke rationalized.

Jess looked at him in all seriousness. "Damn, could have fooled me."

He grunted, tearing his eyes away from his snarky nephew and letting them rest on the brunette that was still holding on to his hand for what looked like dear life. "Lorelai is gonna freak. You know she's been worried sick. You never answered your cell. I know you've been in New York!"

There was another long, uncomfortable silence. Rory could hear the whispers. Their small town princess, pure and virginal, had been with _him_! She wondered what they would say if they knew she had taken up residence with said hooligan. The comments were hurting her, as if someone was standing on her chest.

Miss Patty and Babbette and Morey. "He just gets cuter every second." "Sugar, I know!" "But he's such a bad influence . . ."

Rune and Andrew. "Whatever happened to Dean? He was such a nice boy." "Married. She was so heartbroken, she pulled a Lorelai."

Kirk and Taylor. "My, I can't believe our Rory has gotten herself involved with that urchin again!" "He just scares me!"

She knew it was going to happen. It was a given in Stars Hollow. They all claimed that they cared for her, but everything they said broke her heart even more.

"Luke, what are you going to do about this?" Taylor arrogantly asked.

Jess knew what the likes of Taylor Doose were capable and simply told him what he thought, by giving him the middle finger.

Taylor gasped. "My! Luke, could you please do something about your nephew and his obscene gestures."

Jess rolled his eyes and scoffed. "And here I thought you were smarter than that. Must I vocalize it? Fuck you, Taylor!"

As Taylor's eyes dilated, Luke snickered. Finally someone had the temerity to tell Taylor where he could shove it. Jess' harsh words permeated into her. She suddenly realized why Jess had insisted that they start anew, why he couldn't stay in Stars Hollow. The warm feelings the small town brought to her only made him shiver. Even the faintest idea of Stars Hollow made him cold, and his future there was inconceivable, black and empty. However, he had confessed to her that his life also black and empty without her.

He finally looked back to her. She stood quietly, letting him do all of the talking for once. He noticed in himself that change and credited it all to her. She looked back at him, pain in her eyes.

He once more took her hands in his, encouragingly.

Slowly and softly she spoke, "Baby, we don't have to do this. Let's just go on to the house. Mom will be working at the Inn. We'll have some time to think."

Then, they both turned around to a familiar voice. "Sorry, but Mom is not at the Inn,"

With first instincts, Jess backed behind Rory, gripping both of her hands. Lorelai was the only person on the planet that could make him turn his tail and hide. He knew that she was very protective of her daughter, especially of the leather-jacketed boy who had plucked her proverbial flower the night before last. _He loves her . . . He loves her no- . No, he loves her._

_She said I don't know why you ever would lie to me _

_Like I'm a little untrusting, when you think that the truth is gonna hurt you. _

"Rory, I've been worried sick. I left you fifteen messages!"

She tried to swallow the wad of fear in her throat, but it wouldn't go down. She was unsure of why she was scared. This was her mother, whom she loved dearly. It was her best friend. Maybe it was just Jess' fear she was channeling, as she felt him grip her hands even tighter, slowly removing there sanguinity

"I haven't checked my voice mail since Saturday. Sorry."

Lorelai looked at there intertwinedhands. "Yes, I can see that."

Immediately, Rory turned wraith-like, her gray tee shirt almost fading completely into her milky complexion. Lorelai was not sure if it was fear or guilt.

_Well, I don't know why you couldn't just stay with me; _

_You couldn't stand to be near me when my face don't seem to wanna shine_

_'Cause it's a little bit dirty. _

She knew. She didn't have to look into her daughter's eyes. She didn't even have to do a pelvic exam. No, it was definitely mother's intuition. Her baby was now a woman, _women_ had a certain air about them. Rory definitely did.

"Mom, please say something." Rory pleaded.

"There's nothing to say. I still love you, Honey, but if this is want you want, then there's nothing I can say about it. You Grandparent's on the other hand . . .well, I suppose that's another story, but, " She looked into Jess' eyes. Always confused by their glaze. She could never read them, but her daughter always could. This angered her slightly. Jess reminded her so much of Christopher. "You, on the other hand, I don't have to love so much considering the fact that you took my daughter's innocence, I assuming the evening before last? Is that correct?"

Jess just looked at her, amused. "Huh."

_Don't just stand there. _

_Say nice things to me_

_'Cause I've been cheated, I've been wronged. _

_You don't know me._

_Well, I can't change; I won't do anything at all. _

"There's that vague, monosyllabic retort we have all come to know and love!"

Rory chuckled for the first time they walked into the Diner.

"I just wish you would just wait," Lorelai began, turning to Rory and wrapping her hands around her neck, nuzzling slightly, "Wait until you get out of school. Wait until things are right."

"I've gotta plan. It's a good plan." Rory said it with slight apprehension; however, her voice thickened as she looked at him.

"I wish you didn't lie to me." Lorelai stated, never disregarding her bluntness.

"I just wanted to tell you in person. You understand, right?"

Lorelai smirked. She had a plan up her sleeves as well. "Yeah, but I don't think your Grandparents will be quite as understanding, especially at Friday dinner. One that the three of us will attend."

And then, he threw up the imaginary vomit that never quite reached his throat.

_Don't bowl me over. Just wait a minute. _

_Well, it kinda fell apart; Things get so crazy. _

_Don't rush this baby. Don't rush this baby . . . . _

* * *

Well, I hoped you liked it. Also, R/R. Thirdly, please bear with me as I finish _OSA. _It's coming, I swear! Peace and Love — Caroline.


	3. Until You've Seen This TrashCan Dream Co...

A/N: This is chapter three. I hope you like it. I really tried to make Emily a bitch; 'cause I really don't like her. I like Richard though. You can probably see that as well. I also named dropped Dr. Hunter S. Thompson as well. The Good Doctor left us last month when he took his own life. RIP., Doc Gonzo, RIP. Anyway, I hope everything was in character. Tell me if it wasn't. I appreciate all your great reviews. You all have a special place in my heart. Again, R/R. Peace and Love — Caroline.

Disclaimer: Must we go through this again? Milo, would you be a dear and . . .

Without further ado . . .

Chapter 3: _Until You've Seen This Trash-Can Dream Come True_

_"And now I know, Spanish Harlem are not just pretty words to say. I thought I knew, but now I know, that rose trees never grow in New York City. Until you've seen this trash-can dream come true, you stand at the edge while people rung you through. I thank the Lord, there's people out there like you . . ." _

_"Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters"_

— Elton John and Bernie Taupin

She loved to watch him read. His eyes intently drinking in every word, as if dying of literary thirst. It was as if he was grasping every single word, taking every phrase into consideration, rewriting them on his heart and mind. He was sitting in a lax position on the Gazebo bench, his legs stretched out, his free arm resting on the wooden crevices.

"What are you reading?" She asked, sitting beside him and putting her weight onto his form.

His eyes, strangely warm, quickly strayed from the words to her face. "_One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest_." he stated, both nonchalantly and matter-of-factly.

She rolled her eyes. "Ken Kesey again?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say? I've always had a thing for Nurse Ratched."

"Right. We all know my best friend is Hannibal Lector."

He chuckled. "We all have our oddities. So, Clarice, what are you reading?"

She gave him a toothy grin. "_Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_." She replied, assuming he would be impressed.

And he was. "Wow. Hunter Thompson?"

"Yep." She said, satisfied with his reaction.

"Interesting. You know they were friends."

She furrowed her brow. "Who?"

"Kesey and Gonzo," he clarified. "Really good friends, in fact."

"Didn't all the Beats hang out at one time or another?" She asked, knowing fully well what the answer was.

"Kinda like the Lost Generation." He supplied.

She grimaced. "Hemingway. Bleck!"

"One day," he began with a smirk, "One day when you least expect it, you're going to pick up _The Sun Also Rises_ or _A Farewell to Arms_, and the lightbulb inside your head is going to miraculously come on and you'll have an epiphany. Then, you'll finally realize what a genius Ernest really was and actually hear all the lovely things he has to say about you."

She rolled her eyes, picturing that blessed day at the bridge that felt like it was so long ago. "Sure, if I can only figure out just what the hell that man is saying."

He gave her an icy glare. "Must you mock me?"

"Not you just that chauvinist, alcoholic cat-lover whom you call the greatest author of the baby boomer generation even though Fitzgerald and Gertrude Stein were clearly better." She finished with another wide grin, and all he did was glare, "You sure are moody. You've been moody all day. What's wrong?"

"Has the fact that we're going to your grandparent's tonight dawned on you at all?"

She put a hand on his cheek, slightly brushing his stubble with her thumb. "Everything will be fine. We've both grown up. We've got a good, clearly thought-through plan. We'll explain that it's what we both want, and they will both understand."

He huffed, and she could feel his hot breath on her fingertips. "That is, if we aren't having a Swan redux."

She giggled despite his extreme dislike of that night. "I doubt my grandmother detests you that much, John Updike." She was still giggling.

He grunted. "I still regret telling you that."

"What an excuse, though," she nodded, crossing her arms. "Football? Please tell me the day you put on a letterman's jacket so I can take a picture."

He rolled his eyes. "But you like me. You did then, too. Even when I lied to you."

"Call me crazy, but you had me at that utterly ridiculous Hooked on Phonics comment."

His stoic expression turned into a smirk, as if his thoughts were broadcast across his face. "Huh."

And then he kissed her.

* * *

The two of them had been in the Diner in their usual spots. He behind the counter, countering her every move, and she sitting on the bar stool begging for coffee and his attention. For a moment, she became distracted, moving her eyesight to the two sitting in the gazebo.

"I'll never understand it," Lorelai declared, turning back to Luke Danes and her coffee, "he's moody, sarcastic, monosyllabic, and has an attitude that would have been made John Bender jealous."

"I don't know either. He's not the most good-looking thing in the world." Luke replied, trying to appease her. Inwardly, knowing good and well why Rory would choose him. Jess made her feel . . .alive.

Lorelai chuckled. "I never doubted his looks."

He furrowed his brow and raised an incredulous eyebrow.

She threw her hands in the air in a V shape. "What? I knew he was hot. When I first met him, I thought he had that whole Billy Crudup thing going for him."

"Are you crushing on my nephew, Mrs. Robinson?"

She grimaced. "God, No! Just because he's good-looking doesn't mean he isn't a pain in the ass."

He chuckled. "Now, I can attest to that, but he sure as hell loves her."

"I hope my parents can see that . . ."

"And past the callous exterior?" He supplied.

She nodded.

* * *

The elder man and two women sat their quietly, sipping cocktails. This was typical for a Friday night dinner at the Gilmore house. Lorelai had told her parents that Rory would be there with a guest, she just failed to mention the name of said guest. When the doorbell rang, she knew that everything built up was about to hit the fan.

"I'll get the door." Emily told the maid, rushing through the foyer.

She opened the door to her granddaughter, her hands intertwined with another, kissing passionately. She waved her hand at her daughter, motioning for her to come to the display.

Lorelai just looked to her mother and smirked widely. "Watch and learn."

She mischievously brought her thumb and curled index finger to the back of his neck and thumped him hard. "Son of a bitch!" He cursed loudly against her lips, removing his hand from the small of her back to his neck.

The couple then turned around to see the two elder Gilmore women, one with a smirk plastered on her face, the other with a horrified look of pure shock.

"If I remember correctly, it's Jess, right? It's nice to see you again." Emily replied, severely stoic but always the perfect hostess.

Jess, as per usual, raised an eyebrow and said, "Huh."

Lorelai snorted. "Mom, that's 'Hello, it's nice to see you too.' in slacker."

Rory chuckled. Her mind traveling back to the day in the diner when Jess had first arrived in town. It was also the day of the infamous chalk body on the sidewalk in front of Doose's Market. Taylor was furious. Mia had also come for a visit that day, and Luke introduced her to Jess. Luke had used a variation of the exact same quip. Jess' voice then knocked her out of the reverie.

"I have two jobs," He countered, "I write freelance for the _New York Post_."

Rory saw her grandmother's eyes soften. "Rory, darling, might I ask what this boy is doing here with you?"

Lorelai interrupted, "Can we please do this inside? I'm starving."

The four of them entered into the Gilmore house and walked into the living room, where Richard Gilmore sat on the sofa sipping on a dirty martini.

"Hi, Grandpa," Rory retreated to his form, kissing him lightly on the cheek, "How are you?"

He smiled. "I'm lovely," He looked at Jess, "I didn't know you were bringing a guest; Rory, introduce us."

Jess swiftly acted, shaking the elder gentleman's hand and introducing himself.

"My," Richard began at the sound of his last name, "That's Italian. Where are you from? Not Connecticut I would assume."

"No, Sir. New York."

A look of realization came over him. "Ah, the Big Apple. Which part? Long Island? Queens?"

"East Village." He stated, matter-of-factly.

"I see,"He started as they made their way to the dinner table, just as the current maid came and told them dinner was ready, "How did you and Rory meet?"

They sat in the usual place settings. Richard at the head of the table. Emily and Lorelai on one side and Rory and Jess on the other. Jess immediately felt like whispering in her ear that they actually got to sit next to each other this time. He then answered Richard's question.

"In Stars Hollow of all places. My mom sent me to live with my Uncle Luke. I had been getting into trouble. I met her my second day there. I was completely smitten."

Rory blushed.

Emily Gilmore's eyes narrowed. "What kind of trouble?"

"Does it really matter? I was seventeen, and it was a long time ago."

"Of course it does." She replied.

He just nodded, biting his cheek and tongue. "Nothing serious."

"Did you go to jail?"

'Are you being pretentious and rude?' He wanted to say. Instead, he said, "A few times." He wanted to be frank and honest.

"For?"

Rory interrupted, "Grandma, Jess didn't come here for an interrogation of his past. You did that the last time we were here."

"Then what did he come here for?" She leaned back into her chair, self-assured that she was finally going to get some answers. She could see that this struck a nerve with her granddaughter. "Rory, I'm concerned. He broke your heart!"

She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breathe. "And we talked about that before . . ."

Emily's brow furrowed. "Before what exactly?"

"I gambled my entire life's savings away on cock fights." Jess quipped.

The two youngest Gilmore's snickered. The eldest Gilmore's were slightly wide-eyed. "In Mexico, too. It's nasty habit!" Lorelai added for extra comic relief.

"Before making another bad joke, could you please answer my question?" Emily continued her inquiry.

"What? Why did I go to jail? Would telling you I robbed a 7/11 suffice?" He crossed his arms. Rory could tell he was annoyed, and placed a comforting hand on his knee under the table.

"Did you steal their Slurpee machine?" Emily chaffed, countering his bad attitude.

Lorelai smirked. This was definitely the sparring match of the century.

"No, just the soda machine. I'm a fan of the Big Gulp."

"My, a burglar and a gambler. Rory's found herself quite the catch. One that would do Kenny Rodgers proud." Richard replied, sarcastically.

"Know when to hold 'em and fold 'em, Sir." Jess countered his sarcasm. No one could beat him. He was the master. Lorelai thought to herself, If only Luke could be here.

Rory sat quiet. The tension was so tight that it could be cut with a knife. How did she know that the night was going to turn for the worse. Her Grandparents were only looking out for her well-being, but sometimes, they took it too far. Her anger was welling. They could not tell her who to date. She was not going to be their minion. That was one of the many things she admired about her mother. Lorelai did not let her parents dictate her life, and she was not going to them rule hers. No, she had to have the courage to tell them what her plans were for the future. Plans that included Jess. And in the middle of their point/counterpoint, she cracked.

"I'm moving in with Jess in New York and transferring to Columbia!"

And the whole world stopped. Emily and Richard looked to their granddaughter as if she had lost her mind. "What? Rory, you can't be serious." Emily said softly, something she had refrained from doing the entire night.

Rory didn't respond so Jess did for her. "She is serious."

"I wasn't talking to you! You need not say anything." Emily exclaimed.

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. That was his cue.

"It's been a lovely evening." He replied, sarcasm dripping from his teeth. He got up from the table and headed towards the door.

She gave her grandparents an icy glare and got up to stop him before he could leave the room.

"Baby, where are you going?" She asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He sighed loudly. "Ror, I really need a cigarette." He muttered, hopefully only she would hear.

"You don't have to go. Don't let them get to you."

He huffed. "Rory, you know that I love you." She nodded. "Well, despite that, you will always want to please those three people sitting there. Your mother will do whatever you want, but your grandparents want only what they consider is best for you, even though it might not be what you want. I want you to do what you want! I've told you that, but you always want to please them. So, you end up forgetting what you truly want in the process, especially if that's New York, Columbia, or me."

She let his words permeate, and again, brought a hand to his cheek. She then leaned in and kissed him in front of God and the entire Gilmore clan. He finally kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her back, and she ran a hand through his tousled hair. When they parted, he grinned, shocked and surprised, and brought his fingers to his swollen lips.

"That was hot!" He exclaimed, smirking. She just blushed.

"Just a reminder that I love you too. Very much." She paused, biting her lip in thought. "Go home. I know you don't wanna be here. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

"Since when did we start reading each other's minds?" He asked.

"I don't know. It's nice though. Seatbelt. Be safe. And my side of the bed had better be empty," Without turning around, she could see her grandmother's eyes dilate, "And call me later. If I don't answer, something is wrong and I'm in danger or in the hospital."

"I'll call. Promise. I love you." He leaned in and kissed her once more. "I love you too."

With that he left for the door, but not before she called out to him, "And you and Rob better not be heading for a bar!"

And he yelled back, "That I can't promise!"

And she could see him smirking widely as he went out the door. She went back and sat down at the table. "So, let's eat."

She saw the looks her grandparents were giving her. "We can't pay for it, Rory." Emily stated.

She turned to them with a glower. "What?"

"If you're moving to New York to be with him, we won't condone it and definitely won't finance it. You'll have to find a way to pay for it on your own." Richard explained.

She just nodded and picked up her salad fork.

* * *

Well? I hoped you liked it as much as I loved writing it. Again, R/R. I love and need to hear from all of you. Peace and Love — Caroline.

PS: I swear that Ch. 9 of OSA is coming out _very_ soon. Scout's Honor!


	4. Another Alien on Broadway

Their apartment wasn't extravagant. In fact, it was just the opposite. It was tiny, minuscule even. The Soho place was just 1.5 rooms and a bathroom. And it seemed even smaller when what seemed like over one-hundred people piled inside. When Jess had returned from Hartford, he found Rob and his other two best friends, Ana Merriman and Carter Smith, hauling grocery sacks and a keg into his and Rory's apartment. Now, the party was up and running. Jess was sitting on the worn and ripped sofa, his nose in a paperback, with a buxom blonde making advances at him.

She put her hand on his thigh; her manicured nails digging into the denim of his jeans. Her perfume cheap and her breathe smelled of stale cigarette smoke. Menthols he'd guess. Her long blonde curls were frizzed and lip stick smeared off on the cup of beer she held in her hand. Suddenly, he felt a strong hand grip his arm and jerk him away. It was Carter.

"Dude, what is wrong with you? She was totally coming on to you!" The Jersey native exclaimed.

Jess just let out a heavy sigh. Pleased in himself that he had no plans of cheating on Rory whatsoever. "You realize that I have a girlfriend that lives here, right?"

Carter rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "That's never stopped you before. Plus, I haven't met her yet; she hasn't gotten the Carter Smith Seal-of-Approval."

He shrugged. That was true, but Rory was different. "Yeah, but this one's different, Man!"

"That's what they all say!" Carter slurred before chugging from the drink in his hand. Jess assumed he probably had no clue what was in it. Carter was a big drinker and ever the ladies man. From Rory's description, Jess thought that Carter would be a lot like Tristan Dugrey with an Eastern Jersey vibe.

He then went back to his seat on the sofa to pick up where he left off in _The Picture of Dorian Grey_. The cheap blonde was still sitting there, as if waiting for him to succumb to her wiles.

Jess turned to her, the blue eyes only reminding him of Rory. "I have a very serious girlfriend ," who smells much nicer than you, he wanted to finish, "And I love her very much."

She took her index finger and brought it to his chin, the fake nail scratching his stubble. "I don't mind." Her voice was low and seductive. She then felt a tap on her shoulder. The blonde turned around to a spunky redhead, and Jess grinned.

"Hi, Love," Ana greeted in her heavy Birmingham brogue. She had always bragged about being from the same city as Ozzy Osbourne, "Muffy, is it?" She queried, jokingly yet harsh.

The blonde sneered and followed her with her eyes. "Well, Muffy, I want you to lay off my man Jess here because he is just that, Love. My Man!" Ana added the last part as she straddled him on the couch, putting her arms around his neck.

When the pseudo-prostitute took the hint and scampered away, Jess snickered. "Ana, as much as I love you, get off me! You don't date dudes!"

"I figured you needed a rescue, Joel Goodsen."

He smiled. The two had dated each other off and on through junior high and there first years of high school. Ana had once commented that Jess was almost un-dateable and turned her off men — and that was partially true. Only a few months before he moved to Stars Hollow, Ana decided to become a lesbian. Ever since, the two had a _Will & Grace_-type relationship, including her fiery locks.

"I don't listen to Bob Seger, and Rebecca De Mornay was _so_ much hotter than her, even though Carter wanted me to go for it."

"Figures, but remember: Carter has always had that, 'Sometimes you just gotta say what the fuck.' attitude."

He laughed. "This is true, and I definitely owe you." Jess replied as they made their way over to the keg.

She grinned widely. "Yes, you do."

* * *

Rory sat quietly in Luke's. She had not gotten much sleep during the night due to the catastrophe at Friday Night Dinner, and that Jess wasn't beside her. He had called her with a garish sound coming from the background, and for a moment, thought there might have been a party but brushed it off quickly. She had apologized to him an abundance of times, but he quieted her, telling her that it wasn't her fault that her grandparents were arrogant snobs. Now, She was, before driving to New York, eating Luke's famous chocolate chip pancakes and received a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to her tall ex-boyfriend.

"Word on the street is that you're moving to New York." Dean replied, obviously nervous.

She looked down at her plate, watching the golden syrup make sticky pools. "Yeah." She feared looking into his eyes.

Despite it all, Dean was still smiling. "You seem glib. What's wrong? Did Jess do some . . ."

This was typical. "No, Dean. Jess didn't do anything," She smiled, "Jess is wonderful. How's Lindsey?"

He looked slightly indifferent. "Okay, I guess." He paused. Things were terrible. "Actually, we fight all the time. Yesterday, we fought because I was listening to The Smiths in the car."

Rory giggled, despite herself. "Yeah, well, she's a Michelle Branch fan. Can't see her liking _Meat Is Murder_ too much."

She then caught herself looking down at the sticky pools while Dean spoke. "Rory, what do you see in him? What did you see in him then? I mean, he was a complete jerk!"

She suddenly felt flustered and nervous. He was a jerk, but that was Jess. Jess didn't let too many people in. For those people, he was a jerk. For those whom he opened up, he did in fact have a softer side, but you had to dig deep for it, and Rory didn't mind grabbing a shovel. She didn't want to broadcast to Dean and the whole world why felt the way she did about Jess but couldn't help it. "Interesting conversation about books, music, everything. Spontaneity. Warmth. Passion. We practically read each other's minds. It's crazy! I feel and felt totally free with him. It isn't daunting. I can love him or think about him without questioning myself."

"I wish you and I had had that." He responded, still rattled from her answer. Rory realized that he wasn't quite ready for her answer, even though he had asked the question anyway.

"I really loved you, Dean. I know it seems like I tossed you to the side so very quickly, but he came to town and left me quizzical after every conversation. He challenged me as a person. He gave me this unadulterated sentience I'd never felt before. It was all so fresh and new, and we weren't fresh anymore. We were stuck in a rut. I'm so sorry," She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and looked at her feet, "I'm so, so sorry, Dean."

"We could have moved passed that rut, Rory! All couples go through rough patches."

"Of course they do, but we were way passed the fixing point. I'm really sorry, but it had to end. It was going to with or without Jess."

"And he makes you happy?"

She just smiled and nodded.

* * *

Lorelai hugged her tightly as they stood by the bus stop. When mother and daughter parted, both had tears running down their faces.

"You're my favorite daughter. I love you very much. You know that. I just wish you wouldn't do this; It kinda screws up a good thing, Babes."

Rory knew this was her mother's last attempt at sanity, to get her to stay, even though she knew her attempts were obsolete. She wiped her mother's tears with her thumb and spoke. "Mom, I know you only want the best for me, but please, before I leave, could you be my best friend for a minute?"

The elder Gilmore smiled. "Of course, Thelma!"

"Wait, I thought I was Louise!" Rory questioned.

"Of course not, Silly Girl. As your mother, I'm obliged to say don't talk to strangers or run with scissors or don't move in with your bad-ass boyfriend, but as your friend, I want you to live life to the fullest. So, while you're in New York, have fun, enjoy your really expensive Ivy League education and your boyfriend, and most importantly, don't get pregnant!"

She smiled. Lorelai had actually referred to him as her boyfriend, and that alone was progress. "Pinky promise. So, I guess this is it." She saw the bus rounding the corner. "I'll call. Everyday. Three or four times a day. I'll visit all the time because Jess is bound to get on my nerves at one point or another. I love you, Mommy!" The hugged tightly again.

"You're moving in with a boy!" Lorelai exclaimed randomly.

"I know, and I don't think I can borrow his shoes!"

Both Gilmore girls laughed through flowing tears. Then, as Rory walked towards the bus, Lorelai yelled, "Don't forget to hang with bikers and lowlifes! Don't get drunk without me, and if you throw any wild ragers, I'm always up for a rave in NYC!"

"I love you too, Mom." And she did. Mostly, she was missing her already, jokes and all.

* * *

She dragged herself up the three flights of stairs of the building considering the elevator, according to Jess, had not run in three years. She put her key in the door and smiled — this felt like home, and she had never been more scared. She suddenly felt like William Miller in Jess' favorite movie. Like she was stuck on a tour bus singing _Tiny Dancer_ with hung over rock star friends on the way to Cleveland from a random house in Topeka, Kansas, and all she wanted to do was go home, but Penny Lane leaned over to her and claimed that she was, in fact, home. And yes, she could hear her mother saying, "Jess Mariano has kidnaped my daughter!"

When she opened the door, the familiar sounds of _Julie's Been Working for the Drug Squad_ hit her square in the face. She raised an eyebrow as she studied the room. She had been right. There was a party. Empty beer bottles and cups were laying everywhere. The empty keg had been turned over. She thought, no wonder he had to show them how to tap a keg that night at Kyle's. The couch had been turned over. Cigarette buts were stubbed everywhere, as if ashtrays did not exist, and this was only the beginning. She walked around the upside-down sofa and found not one warm body but four. Two she recognized as Jess and Rob. But two she didn't — one was a blonde guy and the other a redheaded girl, and they were sprawled on top of each other.

She got down on her knees and crawled to Jess, placing one arm on either side of him. She spoke ever so slightly. "Jess." She nudged his leg with her knee, and he didn't move. "Jess." This time she blew in his ear. He curled up into a tighter ball than he was already in. "Jess!" She spoke much louder. This time, she leaned over and started kissing his neck.

He then mumbled. "Go away. Girlfriend."

She smiled widely at this. "Jess, it's me. Rory."

He cracked his eye and plastered a soft grin on his face. "You're back." He finally whispered.

"Yeah," She paused a moment just to look at his rumpled clothes and tired features. "Some party, huh?"

"What party?" He was joking.

And she caught on. "I hate you."

He laughed. "Love you, too. It wasn't my idea. I came home to this last night."

She cocked her head and crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. Right. So, who are the two corpses in our floor, other than Rob?"

"Carter Smith." "Ana Merriman." Neither of them had realized that the other three had risen from the dead.

"So, this is the girlfriend?" Carter asked, obviously checking her out. He stopped and nodded positively. "She's hot."

"I think so." Jess stated. Rory rolled her eyes.

"Don't listen to him, Love. He's a total pig. It's lovely to meet you." Rory almost jumped when she heard the proper British accent come out of this gorgeous, flame-headed woman.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you both. Rob and I have already met."

He nodded to her presence and turned to Carter. "Dude, I told you she was hot."

"Yes, we've established that fact you idiots! She's not a Playboy centerfold you can just ogle." Ana exclaimed, ever the feminist.

Rob laughed and rolled his eyes. You could tell he had a juicy comeback. "You wish you had a Playboy centerfold to ogle!"

Carter knocked knuckles with him. "Nice!" Then he saw Rory looking puzzled and clarified. "She's gay."

Ana smiled when she saw Rory's eyebrows quirk. "Wha'! I'm not going to hit on you or anything!"

"That's debatable." Jess muttered, loudly just so she could hear.

"Fuck you!" As she yelled and cocked her hip, Rory realized she wasn't exactly the epitome of proper British culture.

"Been there, done that, and I wasn't woman enough for you!"

The guys erupted into deep laughter, and Rory just looked on curious. It seemed like an inside joke that everyone got except her, and Jess didn't want her to feel like a stranger.

"Rory, meet my ex-girlfriend! Ana was my first everything. Girlfriend, date, kiss. Not to mention the drunken evening when she took my virginity."

"And you act like it was such a bad thing! Most people wish they were drunk their first time."

After hearing the statement, Rory finally spoke, "I don't. Not in the slightest. In my dorm room and it was raining cats and dogs. It was _very_ nice." She smirked and Jess caught it, matching it.

"And on that note," He began, trying to usher his three friends out of their apartment, "Get out!"

"But, Jess, we were just getting to know . . .," Carter whined before pausing and turning to Rory to get her name. When she stated her first and last names, he and Ana went wide-eyed. "No, freakin' way!" The two exclaimed simultaneously.

Rory smiled. Not only had Jess told Rob about her but the two of them as well. It was obvious to her that these three people were his best friends, and most likely some of the only few he trusted. She then thought back when Jess first came to Stars Hollow. She had no clue what or who he left behind in New York. Now, she had a slight glimpse.

Ana shook her head. "You are _the_ Rory. Not as slutty as I expected, but hey, you read Ayn Rand so I'll give you kudos for that."

"That and the tartan kilt!" Rob joked.

She gave Jess the deer-in-headlights glare. "You told them about that?"

He nodded. "Well, you told them about my Chilton uniform. So, I can tell them about Luke pushing you into the lake or the swa . . ."

"You wouldn't dare!" He interrupted

"'Beaked' was the word wasn't it? You're just a regular Dylan Thomas."

Jess raised his eyebrows, forgetting the swan incident and focusing on her reference to the poet.

"Dirty." Rory chuckled. He had been around Lorelai way too long.

Rob, too, raised his eyebrows, "Dude, your Uncle pushed you into a lake?"

Jess nodded. "A long story. Quite boring. It involves money for a bridge and Pierpont."

"What the hell's a Pierpont?" Carter inquired.

Rory laughed out loud. "Trust me, you do not want to know!"

"Exactly. It's a long story that I don't have time to tell because the three of you are getting the hell out!" Jess plastered a sleazy grin on his face.

"But we wanted to show Rory around the city. You know, the local hot-spots!" Ana exclaimed, channeling Jess' reason for kicking them out and wanting to annoy him by just staying longer.

"Get out!"

The three of them looked at him with faux-anguish. Rory knew that Jess couldn't tolerate anyone who could not put up with or didn't a have little sarcasm. And watching him with these people, she knew that they were real. Jess would never open up that way around people in Stars Hollow. No, what she saw between the four of them was not toleration but a life-long bond.

"You can take me on a tour of the Big Apple tomorrow."

She saw Rob grimace. "Rory, first rule of the locals, never call it the Big Apple."

Rory's mind fell to the past once more. The day that she skipped school to visit him. They ate lunch at a hot dog stand. Took the subway to a underground record store where she found a signed copy of the Bangles' original album for her mother's perfect graduation present. And no matter how many times she apologized to her mother for screwing up and missing her graduation, inwardly, she regretted nothing. All the while, Jess just continued to glare at his friends.

"Fine," Carter threw his hands up in the air, "we can take a hint!"

With good-bye, the three left, planning to meet the couple the next day for lunch and a tour. Jess then smiled as he closed the door behind them. "We haven't been alone in over 24 hours."

She grinned back. "I know. You wanna do something about it?"

"First, how were Richard and Emily when I left?"

"You sure know how to ruin a moment don't you?'

"Just a simple question, Ror." He

"They aren't going to pay for anything anymore. They are officially cutting me off financially."

"Well, that just sucks." He replied, worried that his tone might sound too sarcastic and that she would take it harshly.

She didn't. "Yeah, you wanna help me forget about it for awhile?"

He just smiled and nodded.

* * *


	5. Please, Please Don't Pass Me By

A/N: I know it took me quite awhile for this one. Not because I've forgotten about, I assure you. This chapter is a little bit different from the others. The first part of this chapter seems useless, but I promise, it's not. I know exactly what I'm doing. I also apologize in advance for the cliff-hanger you are about to read. Enough said. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Happy reading, and as always, R/R!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything I've mentioned. I don't own Gilmore Girls. I don't own Jack Johnson or his beautiful song _Flake_ which is on his extraordinary album "Brushfire Fairytales" which I highly recommend that you pick up. Then again, Milo is in my bed, and he's calling. Sorry, Alexis.

* * *

_I know she said, "It's alright. You can make it up next time." I know she knows its not right. There ain't no use in lying. Maybe she thinks I know something. Maybe . . .Maybe she thinks its fine. Well, maybe she knows something I don't. I'm so tired. . .so tired of trying. It seems to me that maybe pretty much always means no. So don't tell me you might just let it go. _

- Jack Johnson, _Flake_

Before moving there, Rory had only been to New York twice. Once with her mother when she was young and once the day she had skipped school to visit Jess before they had even begun dating. Now that she lived there and was slowly but surely learning her way around, she understood why Swift had once called it a dirty city, especially at that very moment. This area of the lower, numbered streets on the East Side was a slum. The homeless dotted the alley-ways with grocery carts searching for food and a warm place to sleep for the night. One the corners were scraggly, bearded men selling bootlegged CDs, bad souvenirs, and an assortment of hemp jewelry, which was the only thing at the tables that Rory even considered authentic. There were people above their heads, yelling obscenities from window to window, and the passers by didn't seem to mind. Nevertheless, Rory liked it because it was real.

As she, Jess, Rob, and Ana walked down the sidewalk, the buildings seems much smaller and less intimidating than those surrounding 5th, 42nd, or Broadway. When they reached Carter's building, it was a surreal moment. She had always held these picturesque still-frames in her mind; those of New Year's Eve in Times Square, Central Park in early spring, or the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, never the ugly scenes before her. When they entered the agone building, with its worn brick stained with smoke and molded graffiti, a surly, tattooed man sneered at them from the front desk. He was quickly quieted by Rob's mutters. _Why had she not thought of this before?_ She was the only one who had never been here before.

When they reached Carter's apartment, Rory was in awe. As soon as they entered, she knew that he and Lane would get along. He was obviously an avid music fan. She thought that Carter might have been the one who taught Jess to organize his music by genre. CDs and vinyls laid haphazardly on mismatched pieces of furniture and uncleaned carpet. Posters plastered his walls and ceiling. Some even in frames — the originals. ("He's especially proud of the Sex Pistols one. It's a signed _God Save the Queen_," Jess had told her, "It's worth a freakin' fortune!") There were classics — Zeppelin. The Who. Bowie. Lots of Punk — Clash. Ramones. Cramps. Stiff Little Fingers. Alternative stuff — Nirvana. Tool. Even Nine Inch Nails. He even had your typical Emo shrine — Ben Folds, Modest Mouse, John Tesh, and Death Cab. Of course, He had posters and CDs of obscure bands Rory had never heard of before. _Like Jess is with books, this guy is with music._

As they walked into his darkened room, stepping over piles of records, dirty laundry, and take-out boxes, the sound of a loud, nasal snoring and the Dead Kennedy's hit them in the face, not mentioning the torrid stench. _This is definitely a bachelor pad_. She then looked over to the other three who were smirking, especially Jess — Carter was in bed with a woman.

Rob walked over to the stereo, turning up the volume. "Dude, It's almost noon! Time to get up."

The snoring seemed to get louder, but the girl sat up straight at the noise, covering her naked chest with the sheet. "What?" She replied, groggy and confused. "Who are you people?"

Rob chuckled. "We are the goon squad." He then snorted with laughter, covering up his nose, almost doubling over.

At Rob's snort, there was finally a sign of life in Carter. He rolled over and pulled his head out from under his pillow-made tent, his limbs flying all around his head. After tossing in his sleep, Carter then sat up in bed, squinting one eye and slightly opening the other as if it were the most difficult task in the world. Cyclops-like, he looked around the dim room.

"What the hell!" He exclaimed, rubbing his squinted eye. "Whoever touched my stereo has a death wish!"

"What if it was me?" the unknown brunette finally spoke. Carter looked over to her, with two eyes, and the color drained from his face. Jess then leaned in and whispered into Rory's ear, "He doesn't remember her name."

"Ana, I told you that key was only for emergencies!"

"She has a key to your apartment."

He looked at Whatsername, serious as a heart attack, "Jill, she's one of my oldest friends."

And Whatsername scoffed. "My name is Jennifer!"

As Jennifer got out of my bed, gathered up her clothes, and slipped on one of Carter's random concert tees, Jess, once again leaned into Rory's ear. "Told you."

* * *

It was the first Friday night she had off in what seemed like ages. No Dragonfly. No Parents, and sadly, no Rory. Sure, she had talked to Rory earlier that day. She, Jess, and the rest of the posse she had heard so much about were in the Soho shopping district, and Rory had found these terrific vintage pumps. Rory had said, _"These shoes scream 'Lorelai'"_ Naturally, she quipped, _"Did the sole actually say my name, or was it just a random yelp?"_ _"I'd say it was more of a wail."_ And sitting their on the old sofa, making out with the pint of Rocky Road and mocking _Glitter_, She desperately missed her banter sessions with her favorite daughter. As she spooned another hunk of ice cream into her mouth, there came a knock at the door.

When she opened the door, a leather-jacketed Christopher Hayden stood before her.

"Hey, Lor." He greeted, and sounded somewhat angry.

"Chris, what's up? Where's Sherry or GiGi?" Lorelai couldn't quite channel his frustration or the reason for his late night visit.

"Where's Rory, Lorelai?"

"Probably at home. Studying, sleeping, reading, or something along those lines."

"In New York, right?" He spat out the name of the city like it had done him wrong in a previous life.

A look of confusion spread over her face "How did you know about that?"

"Lorelai, how could I not know about something like that!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms for added emphasis. "I'm her father for God's sakes!"

"Chris, you've never been a solid figure in her life, especially after GiGi was born. She didn't tell you because she didn't think it was necessary. How did you find out? Did Emily accidently drop something about it to Francine at the DAR meeting, or did Richard casually mention it to Strove on the thirteenth hole at the Club!"

"Of course not . . ." He paused, unsure of whether or not he should tell, but then yelled it. "I went to see you, Lorelai! I went to see you and Rory at Friday Night Dinner. You weren't there. I asked why. Emily told me."

She shook her head in displeasure. " Why, Chris?"

"Because . . .Because Sherry and I are getting a divorce! I wanted to tell you." His voice softened. It was obvious to Lorelai that this was something he did not bring about.

She frowned. "I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"I don't know. Apparently I'm working all the time and not spending enough time with Georgia. But she works just as much as I do. I just don't know, Lor. I needed someone to talk to, and now, this thing with Rory. I've never even met the guy! Is he right for her?"

She really didn't know what to say. She knew what she wanted to say. _Hell, no!_ However . . .

"Yes. They are so right for each other."

Chris smiled. "So, you like him?"

"Absolutely not."

He could read her like a book. "So, lots of less than admirable qualitites?"

"You could say that. Uses sarcasm as a defense mechanism, has a CD collection that rivals yours, monosyllabic, too intelligent for his own good, proud New Yorker, reads a lot, wears a leather jacket, loves Rory. Basically the Italian version of you."

He smirked. "I like him already."

"You wanna meet Jess Mariano?"

* * *

The duo had been standing outside the apartment door for at least twenty minutes listening to the music the couple on the inside had been playing. It was obviously one of Lane Kim's patented mixes. First, it was Coldplay — _God Put a Smile on Your Face_. Next, it was Tom Waits — _Rain Dogs_. Then, The Shins — _Caring Is Creepy_. Bowie — _Suffragette City_. Now, it was Rachel Yamagatta and her version of Joni Mitchell's _River_. Just before Lorelai was about to put the key, given to her by Rory, in the door, she and Christopher heard a voice from behind them.

"You know, you just slide the key into the lock, turn it, and push." the New Yorker told them jokingly.

The two turned around to not one but three New Yorkers, and Rob spoke once more, "Do I know you? 'Cause my best friend and his girl live here, and the three of us are the only people I know of that have keys to this apartment."

Then Ana chimed in. "Love, you're forgetting about Jess' uncle. You know, the diner man that's all about the flannel."

"You mean Luke." Lorelai informed them.

Carter smiled. "That's it! Wait, how do you know?"

She smirked and began to speak in her best fake New York accent, mocking Rob, "'Cause, well, I know Jess and his girl pretty well. Rory, right? I should know. I mean, I did carry her for nine months, and boy, did my feet swell!"

Christopher matched her smirk and watched the three jaws before them drop. And after about a 45 second silence, Lorelai spoke yet again, "Hi, Lorelai Gilmore. You must be . . ." And she pointed them out one by one. " Rob Coffax. The smart-ass best friend. Ana Merriman. The fiery, British red-head. Carter Smith. The Garden State's biggest womanizer."

Then, she just turned the key in the door and walked into a familiar sight. Rory and Jess curled up on the couch, her head in his lap, both reading literary masterpieces while listening to the next track on Lane's mix — Jack Johnson's _Flake_. The two, so engrossed in their books, never noticed the five walk in the door.

Cater snapped his fingers. "Dude, I think we found something that belongs to Rory."

Jess and Rory looked up to the two former lovers. Rory squealed in excitement.

"Mom!" She yelled, putting her book down and running over.

"Mini-me!" She matched Rory's tone and wrapped her arms around her neck. "I wanted to bring you an I heart New York tee shirt, but I decided on your father instead."

Rory then wrapped her arms around Christopher, speechless and shocked at his presence. "Dad, what are you doing here? And how did the three of them figure into the equation?" She asked, pointing over to she and Jess' three friends.

"Well, they found us outside with your mother debating on whether or not to turn the key. What am I doing here? I'd love to tell you the whole story, but for now, I'll give you the Reader's Digest version. I went to see you and your mother at Friday Night Dinner. You weren't there, obviously. You Grandparent's filled me in on the reason. I went to Stars Hollow, and now, I'm here."

Rory pursed her lips, still not satisfied with his answer. "But, Dad, why did you go to Friday Night Dinner?"

He hesitated. There were way too many questions that he did not want to answer. "Well, Ror. . um . . .Sherry and I are getting a divorce."

"I'm so sorry, but why did you want to tell us this? You've never felt motivated to tell us anything like this before. Until it's too late, that is."

He winced. _That hurt_. "Well, Ror, I've made a decision that since I'm no longer in Sherry's life, and I'm only going to get to visit Georgia. I want to finish up where I left off with you and your Mom. I know that your Mom and I aren't meant to be. I get that, but you are my daughter. My first-born, and I want to make up for all the times that I've screwed up. And I wanna start by helping you pay for school."

The two Gilmore girls went wide-eyed. Rory looked at her mother for understanding. Lorelai just gave her a look back, letting her daughter know that this was truly the first she had heard of it.

Then, Jess, for the first time, spoke. "Ror, that's great."

"Chris, have you lost your mind!" Lorelai was dumb-founded.

* * *

Well, what do you think? It's short, I know. It's a cliff-hanger, I know. It took me way too long to update, I know. I know all of this. Anyway, I hope you liked it despite all of these things. This, I suppose, is my desperate cry for reviews, especially constructive criticism. I'm pathetic. Again, R/R. Peace and Love — Caroline.


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